


The Fine Line

by Rycolfan (Snarryeyes)



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarryeyes/pseuds/Rycolfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad and Jeff's mutual dislike reaches boiling point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2011 Whose-A-Thon on LJ, using the prompt 'Brad/Jeff - hate sex.'
> 
> Based around the IAG tapings. Other three pairings are only implied. This is a work of fiction - no offense is intended to those portrayed herein.

 

 

_'Hatred is by far the longest pleasure; men love in haste but they detest at leisure.'_

 

Jeff places his empty bottle on the table before him and eyes the bar, deciding whether to get another. He has already drunk more than he should, something which he knows he’ll pay for dearly come morning. His gaze falls on Chip and Drew, laughing loudly and drawing the attention of the other drinkers - Chip had gone to get a re-fill ten minutes ago and hadn’t returned. Now Jeff starts to think about it, he realizes that this has happened quite a few times lately. It’s not their cosy four-man tour anymore. Ryan had disappeared with Colin an hour earlier.

Deciding to cut his losses, Jeff gets to his feet, cutting Greg off mid-flow with a muttered goodnight, and heads for the exit. His attempt to catch Chip’s eye fails, and he doesn’t bother to publicly advertise his departure.

There’s a small mob of fans loitering in the hotel foyer, and they press forward with pads and pens outstretched as soon as he appears, a babble of pleading requests and heartfelt adoration. Jeff sighs inwardly as he notices Brad already amongst the throng, scribbling his signature on random items and posing for a couple of photos. It’s not a secret that the two of them don’t exactly see eye to eye. It’s a fundamental clash of personalities. Jeff had been less than thrilled to hear of his involvement in the new show, and their performances together on stage that night had held an edge of tension - a tension which Chip had managed to diffuse somewhat… the naturally appeasing third party in their singing games.

Jeff doesn’t bother to acknowledge Brad’s presence, focusing instead on the hopeful faces of the fans surrounding him, plucking a pen out of a young girl’s hand to sign her autograph book. She’s babbling excitedly at him. Sighing inwardly, he smiles and politely responds. His head is a little foggy from the beer.

He eventually makes his escape and sees Brad disappearing into one of the elevators ahead. He makes no effort to catch it, valuing his sanity. However, when he emerges on the twelfth floor, Brad is once again a few steps ahead.

Brad glances back, hearing the elevator’s arrival, and smirks. “Chip got better things to do tonight?” he calls back, continuing to walk nonchalantly.

His snide tone successfully gets Jeff’s back up instantly. “You’re such an asshole.”

Brad doesn’t turn, but Jeff can hear the amusement in his reply. “And yet, you’re still following me.”

“My room happens to be in this direction, too, genius. If I can squeeze past your inflated ego, that is.”

Far from being offended, Brad lets out a bark of laughter. “I don’t think you’re in any position to talk, buddy. You just don’t like me raining on your parade.”

“I’m not your buddy, jack-ass.”

“But you don’t deny the rest.”

Brad pulls out his key card, nearing his hotel room, and takes a second to glance back smugly. It only fans Jeff’s anger further.

“Would there be any point? You don’t accept any views other than your own. In fact, I don’t know why I’m bothering talking to you at all.”

Attempting to open his door, Brad abruptly stops and turns. The move takes Jeff by surprise and he pauses uncertainly.

“So why are you?” Brad asks. He advances slowly on the other man, a calculating look in his dark eyes.

He stops within a hair’s breadth of Jeff’s face, holding him immobile with his gaze. There isn’t any anger in it, just curiosity and… something else, something altogether more primal. Jeff swallows reflexively, unable to look away. The next second he’s up against the wall, Brad’s hand fisted in his expensive shirt to hold him in place. It was going to leave creases.

Brad’s breath flows warmly across his face, a mixture of alcohol and cigarettes. “What do you want, Jeffrey?”

Jeff wants to shove him away roughly, get the hell out of there, but the close proximity is affecting him in unexpected ways.

Brad glances down, and a smirk blooms on his face; he knows he’s won. Moving even closer, he runs a hand down to cup the bulge in Jeff’s pants. “I know what _this_ wants… are you going to let him out to play?” His fingers squeeze Jeff through the thin material and Jeff clenches his jaw, torn between disgust and desire.

The battle is quickly won. Jeff snatches the key card out of Brad’s free hand, and pushes him back towards the door. “You asked for it.” He doesn’t look at Brad as he slides the card into the slot, knowing he’ll find an insufferably superior expression. Quite frankly, he couldn’t care less. As far as he is concerned, this is just about a quick, meaningless fuck. Pressure release.

The door open, he grabs Brad’s shirt and hauls him inside, slamming him back to close it with his body. The room is bathed in darkness. The only light comes from the window, beyond which the multi-coloured lights of Vegas sparkle and shine. Brad’s hand reaches across for the light switch, but Jeff grabs hold of it in a vice-like grip.

“Leave them off.” He can’t see Brad’s expression clearly, only the gleam of his eyes. It makes his cock twitch traitorously.

“Bring it on, Jeffrey.”

Jeff turns him around roughly, unconcerned when Brad’s face collides with the hard wood, and retrieves a condom from his wallet. “Jeff,” he corrects harshly, undoing his pants. As they slip to his ankles, he places the condom over his jutting erection and reaches around to unfasten Brad’s, ripping them down along with the accompanying underwear. He’s uncomfortably hard, his cock bumping insistently against the cleft of Brad’s ass.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Brad taunts. “Or are you going to fuck me, _Jeffrey?_ ”

The goad sets Jeff into action. Without a word, or any kind of preparation, he thrusts forwards. He pushes through the resistance, spurred on by Brad’s hiss of pain, until he’s fully sheathed, enveloped by the burning heat.

“That all you got?” Brad scoffs, although his words sound strained and breathless. His knuckles are clenched against the door.

Jeff smiles vindictively. “I’m just getting started.”

Without warning he pulls out almost completely and slams back in hard, and this time Brad can’t contain a moan. Whether it’s from pain or pleasure, Jeff doesn’t know or care. It feels too good. He starts to thrust in earnest, deriving a savage pleasure from the mindless violence of the act and the gasps and whimpers unwillingly torn from Brad’s throat.

Grunting with the effort, he adjusts his hold on Brad’s hip. His fingers are digging sharply into the warm flesh, sure to leave bruises come morning. With every moment that passes he’s drifting higher, closer, and his breathing becomes erratic as his thrusts increase. He can’t see Brad’s face, but he can hear his ragged breathing. And then, with a final deep thrust, he’s falling back to Earth on an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure. His breathing hitches as his body spasms through its release.

Then everything slows, the pleasure fades, and he slips free, grateful that there’s no need for loving endearments or false platitudes. He removes the soiled condom and discards it as Brad turns. Then he’s pushed roughly towards the dark shape of the bed, and the light which crosses Brad’s face reveals a predatory expression which turns Jeff’s mouth dry.

“ _My_ turn.”

Jeff’s legs collide with something, and he falls backwards onto the soft sheets, surprised to find he’s already half hard again at the thought of what’s to follow. Brad tugs Jeff’s pants clear of his legs and removes his own before crawling onto the bed. For one crazy second, Jeff thinks that Brad’s going to kiss him as their faces draw level but then he’s carelessly flipped over onto his stomach. He hears the snap of a condom and swallows loudly, knowing what’s coming next.

Sure enough Brad penetrates him roughly, repaying the favour, and Jeff presses his screwed up face into the sheets to muffle his gasp. Burning pain shoots through his nerves as his body protests against the intrusion, swiftly clearing his post-coital drowsiness, but there’s pleasure too, especially when Brad buries himself deeper.

The pressure in his groin gradually builds again as Brad thrusts in again and again, his grunts puffing hot air across Jeff’s neck. Jeff’s fully renewed erection is digging painfully into the bed and he raises himself onto all fours to ease it. The movement only serves as encouragement for Brad, who, shifting to accommodate him, begins to pound into his body even harder, his balls slapping against Jeff’s heated skin.

He can hear Brad whispering something unintelligible under his breath but, when he attempts to look, Brad pushes his head back down and holds it there forcefully. Now he’s hitting Jeff’s prostate with every sharp thrust. Breathing heavily, the younger man wraps a hand around his own engorged cock and begins to pump it firmly. It’s already slick from his earlier release, and his hand slides deliciously over its length… faster and faster.

Brad’s not bothering to hide his moans now, too lost in a haze of fiery lust to care. The whole bed rocks from the force of their movements, an increasing frenzy that can’t last. Suddenly Brad grabs a handful of Jeff’s hair and pulls his head up, like a horse on reins. Gasping through the haze of pain, Jeff feels the wet heat explode into him and his hand quickly finishes the job. His second orgasm is easily as strong as the first, his seed spurting across the sheets in white streaks while Brad continues to rock into him, giving everything he has.

Then it’s all over. Brad pulls out of him, leaving an aching emptiness, and Jeff feels a little like the used condom which Brad tosses into the trash. He sits up, grabbing a Kleenex from the bedside table to clean himself up with before pulling on his clothes. The darkness makes this job harder, but it feels safer than turning on the light and exposing the reality of their actions.

Luckily Brad makes no move towards the switch either. Instead he leisurely stretches out on the bed and watches Jeff fumble with the button on his pants. “Not staying for the post-sex cuddle, then?” His voice is dripping with barely concealed amusement.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Jeff replies coldly without looking at him, slipping into his shoes.

Brad chuckles quietly. “I didn’t expect it to. But feel free to return anytime Chip has his dick buried in someone else.”

Jeff straightens up, the venom in his glare diluted by the deep shadows. “You have no idea how much I despise you right now.”

Brad simply shrugs. “I can live with that.”

Turning away in disgust, Jeff leaves without looking back, hating Brad for hitting so close to home and hating himself a little bit more.

 

End.


End file.
